Filling the Void
by Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Rewrite of "How to Fill the Void" without the rape/non-con. Vanitas suffers. He suffers each moment. But when he is around Ventus he can feel his light seeping into his soul, and he wants to stay within it forever.
1. Birth (Vanitas)

I opened my eyes, taking the world in for the first time. I could feel the cracked gravel beneath my body which laid upon the ground as I stared at the burning sun. My mind was a haze, but through it, I somehow knew this was not the real start of my life, but instead a sort of rebirth. I could recall general information, such as how this burning ball of fire moves throughout the sky, but I was unable to grasp any specifics about myself or where I was. There was an emptiness inside my chest, as if there was a physical hole from which my heart had been ripped.

I shifted, checking my body for signs of injury. But there were none; it was a black mesh of naked limbs, yet everything seemed intact. Staring in shock, I wondered what I was and why I felt this way.

An inaudible whirring buzz drew my eyes to that of a body lying near me. The boy looked beautiful with spiky blond hair and smooth pearly skin. This boy radiated Light where I radiated Darkness. My throat tightened with envy as I stared at myself again. Repulsive. Unlike me, the boy seemed absolute perfection except for the fact that he appeared to be sleeping.

Movement on the other side of me caught my attention. A dark-skinned man touched the sleeping form. The man's eyes found mine, and I shrunk under intense gaze. It wasn't fear that gripped me but uneasiness. His gaze spoke volumes of malice, and while I knew it wasn't directed at me, I wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Took you long enough. I was worried I might have broken you both." He seemed to be muttering more to himself than addressing me. "Well, well. What shall we call you, then?" The man thought for a moment before a glint reached his eyes. "Ah, yes. How about Vanitas? Similar to Ventus but true to your nature. One empty yet full of vanity."

"Vanitas." The word felt right somehow. It made my tongue twitch with pride. It quickly shriveled, however, as I remembered my situation. "Who are you? Do you know me? How did I get here? Who is he?" My tone was pleading, and I hated it.

"I am Xehanort, but you shall simply call me Master."

How arrogant. But I figured it would be best to worm my way up to him, at least until I gauged the situation. "Yes, Master."

"You are born from the one known as Ventus." Xehanort pointed to the sleeping boy. "Try hard and I'm sure you can remember. You are the darkness from inside that heart."

Closing my eyes and focusing, I saw what appeared to be a duller perfection of the Ventus physically beside me surrounded by other black beings. That was Ventus, but I also knew it had been me. "Please don't do this, Master. I'm not strong enough," I said, though the sound was different, richer and more vibrant.

"No. It is because you are trying to hold it in. Let the dark impulses waken in the pit of your heart. Release them, here and now! Sharpen your fear into rage. You must! If you do not let the storm within you run its course, it will wipe you from the face of the world, make no mistake! Do it. Embrace the darkness. Produce for your Master the X-blade!" came the unmistakable voice of Master Xehanort.

"Ehh!" I yelled as the dark masses engulfed me.

When I reopened my eyes it was with certainty. Ventus and I were one. I was the Darkness while he was the Light. I held all the shadows and imperfections. There would be no escape for me. No light at the end of the tunnel, because Ventus held all the light available to us. That was the emptiness. I was now a hollow shell of Dark energy. Why try to fight it? Why not just let the Darkness eat away at me until there was nothing left? My body began to quake in the dawn of my purposelessness. The feeling swelled until, finally, with the agony of claws biting through my flesh, it burst. From me slithered a bluish-black creature with long grey claws and beady red eyes. It was similar to a heartless, but immensely more vile.

"Interesting," Xehanort said. "Do you know how you created this being?"

"All I did was feel envious of what I now lack."

"Try it again. Make another," Xehanort demanded.

I could not believe what I was hearing. The creature was ugly, disgusting. Had I really manifested such a thing? Was this meant to be my purpose? My mind and emotions conflicted. It would so easy for the Darkness to consume me, yet that would truly be the hell I feared. These emotions escalated until, once again, I felt the agony surging in my stomach. A second, identical creature appeared.

"Very interesting. Shall we call them unversed?"

I couldn't care less what they were called. What I wanted to know was how to make them stop. I wanted to strangle them out of existence—and perhaps myself along with them. I answered merely as a way not to show weakness. "Yes, Master." Xehanort's words repeated in my head. One empty yet full of vanity. How right that name was. All I could do was try and feel vain even if it was only an act. That was the only thing I was sure I could hold onto.

The creature made a noise, close to a shriek, and I rushed toward it on impulse. Flicking my wrist, the keyblade I remembered using in the past appeared giving me a second of self-pride. I was still able to do that much at least! Then I slashed at the now-named unversed. They dissipated as if they had never existed to begin with, but at that same moment an immense pain overtook me. It was as if my stomach was eating itself from the inside out. I clutched the organ, rocking ever so gently.

By the time the pain finally subsided, even more unversed had seeped from me. This couldn't be happening. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry. These things and I were bound by the awful tie of fate. Pain, that was my fate. Pain and revulsion. Hate overtook me. Hate for myself. Hate for Master Xehanort for condemning me to this state. And above all, hate for that perfect being resting so easily. How dare he be so perfect and carefree! Without another thought, I lunged at him with pure killing intent.

Master Xehanort blocked my way, and I released a howl of rage. "No you don't, boy."

"Ha!" I spat out at that remark. How was I a boy? I was nothing but a mesh of black limps and vile vermin awaiting their release. I calmed my voice, trying to persuade him logically. "And why is that? You were the one who gave me life, is that not correct?"

"Yes, yes it is. I take it you don't recall why it is that I separated you?"

"You had wanted me—us—to forge the X-blade? But wasn't that why you gave me life, because I can accept the Darkness. Because I am Darkness." Saying it aloud hurt.

"Yes and no. I did need you, but I need him as well. You two must become one once again in order to form the X-blade. You two must battle, therefore you must wait for him to recover."

I wanted nothing more than to watch his blood taint that whiteness of his. I spoke cautiously, feeling the edges of my teeth. "I don't think I can hold myself back. We need to be separated."

"Very well. I will send him away. We can train him to make him stronger. Then, once he is ready, you can battle him to your heart's content, creating the X-blade. You two will reunite. You will be whole again, and we shall gain the power we need to save all the inhabitants of the world."

I blinked as the words settled in. Creating the X-blade could save the world? Perhaps there was hope for me. I just needed to become stronger. "Yes, that sounds like a perfect plan, Master."

Xehanort told me he had taken Ventus to someone called Eraqus, but I could not care less. In fact, I would rather have not known so that I could forget about the injustice of his state and focus entirely on improving my own. Without the Light taunting me, it was easier to learn to control the Darkness. It was alive with a singing energy and would respond to nearly any command I gave it. The unversed was another matter. They responded less obediently, instead taking on a life of their own. The pain continued—a constant ache throughout my day—but it became more manageable with each buildup. Apparently, Ventus remained a lifeless doll while I continued to grow stronger. I had no doubts about who would win this upcoming battle.

Then one day, out of nowhere, the purest Light I had ever imaged washed over me, and in that brief moment, I felt whole and pure. Every fiber of Darkness was cleansed, leaving me weightless. But then it ended as quickly as it had begun. The Light was snatched away, leaving inky darkness—my soul. From the void I heard a voice calling out, "Let's open the door." Excruciating pain crawled across my skin as if it was reshaping itself. Whereas the Light was temporary, I could feel that this was a permanent transformation.

Finally, I could breathe again. The room returned to my vision, and rage filled me. I'd remembered what it had been like to be complete, but I had never known what it felt like to be bathed in pure Light. Even if forming the X-blade re-united us, I would never again experience that pure Light. Darkness was all I was. Yet for Ventus, that pure Light was all he was.

Ventus. He was awake. I could feel every fiber of my body whispering it. That Light had been for him. The Light worked to cure him, while the Darkness did nothing but try to consume me.

Glancing into the full-length mirror within the bedroom Xehanort had lent to me, I found that my features had in fact changed. Previously indistinguishable features were now as defined as Ventus' and Xehanort's. I could now pass as a normal human being. There was still a noticeable darkness to my skin, but it was pale enough not to look unnatural. Eyes that used to be red were now a piercing gold sheen. I had a mop of raven hair upon my head which spiked in every direction, defying the laws of gravity.

Slowly, I began to touch the naked flesh. I had yet to touch human skin in this new incarnation, but it felt as I remembered it. It was smooth and pliable, yet tough enough for protection. I opened my mouth in awe and noticed bright white teeth. How, and why, did the Light do this to me? Had it actually been trying to reach out to me as well? But my insides remained the same; I could feel claws scratching against the raw skin of my belly; nothing had really changed. It didn't matter if the Light had been trying to help or not. What mattered was that I could now go out into the open without making a ruckus. I ran my hands along my now well-defined musculature. The rises and dips in flesh felt so odd. Before it had been flat and elastic, and before that it had been weak.

As normal as I appeared, I would need clothing. Perhaps the Darkness could form some. I pulled the strands of Darkness outward, then back toward me. The strands curved and formed but did not hold. Anger sparked. Why did I have to struggle so just to look normal? Why did Ventus get off so easily? I focused on this negative emotion, and the strands sizzled with power. The strands fused, fitting snuggly against me as if the material was a second pair of skin. I moved, testing the hold, and the tendrils moved perfectly with each muscle.

Looking in the mirror, I saw that the Darkness had even been colored to replicate real fabric. The body of the fabric was black, but there were strands of red outlining each muscle line. They almost resembled veins. There was a flowing piece attached at my middle with a red belt. There were leggings and padded red boots. The only part not covered was my head. My human-looking head. I knew better than to believe I had become human. I was Darkness.

Now that I could leave and Ventus was awake, I saw no reason to delay the plan. I found Xehanort staring out the hall window.

"Master, when can we begin training Ventus?"

"Patience, Vanitas. He has yet to even awaken." Xehanort did not even grace me with a look. Instead, his gaze seemed to distance further.

"No. I know that he has. Look at me, Master."

Xehanort turned, and he looked surprised at my appearance but only slightly. The geezer had a knack for obscuring his emotions. That, or he only felt a fraction of what normal humans did. "You look human. Interesting. And your clothes. How did this happen?"

"I cannot be certain. I felt Ventus awaken, and then Light engulfed me. A voice said to open a door which brought pain upon me. Afterwards, this is how I looked. I used the Darkness to form this covering."

He seemed pleased. "Very good. Ventus is awake, which means the plan can commence. And you can travel outside more freely."

"When can I begin strengthening Ventus?"

"Patience. I cannot let Eraqus become suspicious of me. We must leave him in Eraqus' hands for the time being. However, I will be there with a moderate influence. We will leave him be for a while, allow him to learn about the Light. This will strengthen him in another way. Now, how about I teach you more advanced fighting techniques?"

Time passed and boredom easily set in. This plan had initially fueled me with purpose, but I had done nothing. The Darkness would now bow to my will at the faintest of thoughts, yet each time they did so it was a reminder of what I was. _This_ would not save me from my hatred.

Xehanort had forbade me from visiting Ventus' location, but I followed him there concealed in shadow anyway. I needed to know how much longer I would have to wait. I also forged a helmet so as to further guard myself from detection. I was successful for a time, but a week later Xehanort took notice.

"Trying to spy on me, are you? That is you, is it not Vanitas?"

"I apologize, Master. I am curious about Ventus and wondered where he was residing."

"That is understandable. Yet, I forbid you from entering here. You must learn to be more obedient. Do not forget who is responsible for your birth." As if I could ever forget. "Eraqus must not know that I am continuing my search for the X-blade."

"Yes, Master," I agreed reluctantly. I wanted nothing more than to glance again upon the face that used to be my own. As much as I hated him, I couldn't deny the high of being near his endless Light. I tried to obey, but two weeks later, I couldn't stand the separation any longer.

In the dead of night, while Xehanort was sure to be asleep, I opened a portal of Darkness as he had taught me. The darkness rippled before completely engulfing me. A split second later, the Darkness yielded to a small opening of light. Waving a hand over the space, it increased wide enough for me to slide through. I found myself in the great entrance hall. Xehanort had never ventured to Ventus' room, but I could feel the tug of our connection pulling me to the left. Letting go, I followed it.


	2. Questions (Ventus)

**AN:** Uhhh…So, I had practically all of this written for a while, but I wanted to add more to it. I never came up with any good ideas, so here is the long overdue chapter 2.

While most of what I included with Vanitas last chapter (aside from the times mentioned and him feeling the unversed clawing at him) was canon, I changed the information about Ventus since I forgot that I actually had information about Ventus for reference as well. Xehanort did not actually bring Ventus to the Land of Departures until after he joined with Sora's heart. Ven then fell into the comatose state when he tried to remember his past.

Loneliness. I didn't know where I was or even who I was, yet this loneliness was clear as day. A gentle brush to my cheek followed by a female voice saying that everything was okay compelled me to force my heavy eyelids open. A beautiful woman with blue hair smiled at me. Everything about her spoke of kindness, and the loneliness subsided ever so slightly.

"Hey there." She spoke softly, welcomingly. "Are you finally awake? You've been out of it for two weeks now."

Two weeks. What was before that? All I could find in my mind was emptiness. "Where am I?"

"Land of Departures. We found you asleep by the shore. We carried you back here, and you just kept sleeping for three days. Then you started to walk around, but in a comatose state."

My head was swimming. I had been walking around unconsciously? "Land of Departures?" I asked, knowing somehow that this was not my birthplace.

"It's a small world. The entire area serves as our school. We are training under Master Eraqus to become keyblade masters"

"We?"

"Terra and I. It's a little lonely just being the three of us—well four if you count Master Xehanort, but he doesn't visit that often. What about you? Do you know how you got here?"

"I…I don't know. I don't remember anything."

"I see." She paused before continuing with forced cheeriness, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will come back to you in time. You're welcome to stay here as long as you wish." Her face lit up. "I know," she exclaimed, "why don't you learn to wield a keyblade, too? Then you won't feel like a freeloader. Besides, it will be fun."

I didn't know what a keyblade was, but seeing her smiling face, readily seeking friendship, I couldn't find it in my heart to say no. "Okay." I smiled back.

She introduced me to Terra—who was a dark-skinned teen about Aqua's age—first. He seemed less confident, less encouraging, but just as welcoming. When she told him I had agreed to learn how to use a keyblade, his face lit up much like hers had.

"It will be nice to have another man around here."

Aqua gave him a friendly smack. "Hey now, you have the Masters. What we really need is another girl."

He muttered under his breath, "I don't know if I could survive being around another girl as strong as you."

I laughed, and Aqua smacked him again, though this time with an amused smirk on her face. So this was friendship, huh? I wondered about the friends I had left behind. Did they miss me? I could feel the loneliness resting in the pit of my chest.

Terra had raised his hands in a gesture of apology, but now he lowered them and set his gaze back on me. "Oh, do you remember your name?"

"No, I can't remember anything."

"Hmmm. We can't keep calling you 'you.' Any ideas?"

V popped into my head, and I felt the sound on my tongue. "Va…Ve…Ven….Ventus."

"Ventus?"

I nodded. That name felt right somehow. "Well, Ventus," he shook my hand, hand clasping, eyes crinkling, "it's nice to meet you. I'm sure you're enjoy it here."

Keyblade training proved to be more work than I expected. It wasn't simple sword practice, which only worked muscles and reflexes. This training also included training of the heart. We were meant to find and hold the perfect balance of light and dark within ourselves. It was impossible for me. Terra encouraged me on, saying that he also had trouble maintaining his balance. But I wasn't like him. I wasn't being swayed one way or the other. It was more like I didn't have a balance to keep. No matter how many days passed or how much I focused on the training and this life, I knew there was something off about me. It was as if I were only a piece of something.

Yet, life here was still entertaining enough to keep me from worrying too much. Terra and Aqua were wonderful company and taught me a lot, and the Master looked after us just like how I imaged a father would. We ate together, trained together, and hung out together. I still hadn't regained any of my memories, and I wondered if I had done these types of things before. We were a family, they said, but I couldn't help feeling that I had another family waiting for me to return to.

Each time they mentioned us being a family, my chest would warm but the loneliness would sweep over me again. Finally, Aqua noticed my displeasure and asked what was wrong.

"I just wonder what happened. Before, I mean."

"Don't worry about it," Terra said, swinging an arm across my shoulder, "we will be here for you no matter what your past turns out to be. Family sticks together."

They were so kind, and I didn't have the heart to tell them that the real reason I was sad was because I wanted something they couldn't give me. I was sure it would hurt them. I wanted the emptiness in my chest to disappear. I wanted to return to that place I belonged. The place where I wouldn't have to constantly question.

"Hey, Terra! What are you doing?" I asked one day when I spotted him crouched near some trees out in the backyard.

"Shh," he whispered, barely glancing over his shoulder at me.

I slowed my pace so that I could approach as quietly as possible. He was knelt over a tiny bird with dusty brown wings.

"Her wing is badly injured," Terra said, stroking her ever so gently. "We need to make sure she stays calm or else she might hurt it worse and never make it back to her nest."

"How do you know she's female?"

"Her dull color. The males are colored brighter to attract attention away from the nest."

"You're so smart. I don't know anything about birds."

"I didn't until coming here either. I'm actually from a big city. Not much wildlife."

I couldn't even imagine living in a big city. "How do we help her?"

"We need to put a caste on that wing and get her to eat and drink plenty of fresh water. Do you want to try picking her up?"

My heart fluttered in agreement. I knelt and, ever so slowly, pressed my cupped hands against her body. Gravity tumbled her into them, and she rested there, transferring warmth. She felt so fragile yet full of vitality, and my chest felt fuller.

"Very good," Terra praised. "See, you can still learn. Let's get her inside."

I wasn't much help, but we managed to caste her wing and get her settled in an old birdcage the Master had laying around. I didn't like seeing her confined to such a small area, especially when she would pop her head up and hop around as if testing her limits. But there wasn't anything we could do about it. She needed to rest, and besides, she couldn't fly anyway.

I found myself spending my free time beside her cage. Sometimes she would sing a bittersweet sound, and I would coo back to her. There was a companionship between us, and somehow I saw myself in her. My wing wasn't hurt, but my head was. I was confined by my own lack of understanding. We both had family to get back to.

It only took a week before the caste was removed and she began to test her wing's capabilities. My eyes watched as she flapped inside the tiny cage, from one side to the other, wings looking strong and healthy. It was time to let her go, I realized.

While she had recovered so easily, I had not. My brain was still an empty shell, riddled with questions. Lifting the birdcage and setting in on the window sill, I unclasped the metal door. She poked her head against it causing the door swung open. I watched as she took flight, winging pumping, cry of happiness leaving her beak, and felt a dull ache in my chest. I should have been happy for her, for the possibility of return it meant for me, but all I wanted was to hold onto the connection we had formed.

I felt empty.


	3. Confusion (Vanitas)

Our connection was foolproof and brought me right to the correct door. I slid in as silently as possible. To normal eyes the room would be too dark to make much out, at least for a time, but my eyes—entire being—was akin to darkness. The blonde was sleeping in a sprawled manner. The bedspread was half falling off so that his legs peeked from the corner. His face was turned so that drool dripped onto the white pillow.

The sight awoke something in me, something I couldn't name and didn't want to; something like, dare I say, affection. He was safe and in one piece. As disheveled as he appeared, he was angelic. I wanted to bathe in this warmth, this grace. Hatred reared its head, refusing to be ignored. It called to me to ruin this moment, to tear every bit of happiness he had gained in these weeks, yet the thing refused me this satisfaction. It pleaded that I instead nurture this kid so that his happiness may one day become my own. But that was absurd. He had cast me out so easily, both from body and mind. Only I held this suffering, this longing for unity and self-worth. The feelings churned, and I feared those beasts would once again claw themselves from my core. Near frantic, I turned, outstretching a hand to call the familiar tendrils of Darkness.

"Is someone there?"

I froze, and the beasts scurried deeper in their pit. Maybe if I was still enough he would go back to sleep, allow me time to rethink this agonizing situation.

"I can feel you there. You don't need to be afraid of me."

Laughter lodged in my throat. It was so comical for him to think I was afraid of him when I had been the one coming with dangerous intent. "I am not afraid."

"Then why are you hiding?" His voice was gentle, and it broke my resolve.

I spun. "I had decided not to hurt you as I intended. But now, I'm reconsidering my choice." His eyes widened from fear, and my lips curved. Good. Let him be afraid.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?"

That was the question wasn't it? "I want you to bleed," I scoffed. "I want you to suffer as much as I do." With each word I stepped closer.

Reaching out, my fingers curling around his vulnerable neck in a vise. I waited for him to squirm, to plead; I did not expect him to place measured fingertips where my check lay beneath my helmet. I did not expect him to coo like one does to a child that everything would be alright while brushing that spot in a caress.

I jolted back as if burned. The skin beneath where he'd touched sang with tranquility. That feeling had been paradise. My fist clenched. Emotions still fought, but I was growing weaker. The Light was superior. Longing sparked. I wanted to stay here, wanted to be touched more, to be cured by that touch. Yet, my pride refused me from saying so. We stared at each other in silence.

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

I shouldn't.

He settled on the edge of the bed. "I'm Ventus. Please, call me Ven."

Ven. That was new. The word made my chest tingle.

"I'm staying here with Terra, Aqua, and Master Eraqus. We're training to become keyblade masters. Or, they are—I still need more training before I'll be ready."

A lot more from what I'd seen. A chuckle slipped out before I could stop myself.

"What, you don't think I can?" He barked back.

His reaction was cute. I was losing myself. "No. I know you can. You just aren't applying yourself."

"Fine! I'll work harder. Just you wait."

He was so carefree. I wanted to pass all my troubles onto him. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder. I wanted to—before I knew it I was sitting beside him. My head fell to his shoulder as if by its own accord. I was about to jump up and flee the situation—which was turning my brain into a jumbled mess—when his hand began to stroke down the back of my helmet. I longed to call the helmet away so that I could feel those fingers against my scalp.

"It's weird," he said, "I feel at ease with you here." Breath caught in my throat. He laughed. "That must sound weird, doesn't it? I mean, you snuck in here in the middle of the night, and I don't even know your name. But for some reason this is the most at ease I remember being."

I could feel my resolve dying away. Those hands were still stroking along my helmet, and though I could feel the echo of his touch, I wanted to actually feel it. I wanted to feel those hands, I wanted to show him my face, I wanted—so much that I couldn't put into words. It was insane and contradictory, but I called the strands of Darkness back to me.

He let out a yelp of surprise when his fingers met my spiky hair. His head turned to look at me. "Uh, is this alright?" I could see from his eyes that it was pure curtsey; he wanted this just as much as I did.

It wasn't, but right now I didn't care. Instead of answering I cupped his cheek.

"Uh." A blush was rising to his cheeks at my touch.

We started into each other's eyes for a long while, unmoving. His were blue and gentle, blank yet spirited, hopeful and full of something I couldn't describe. So many subtle things were different than when we were together. His features were softer, not worried from fear and overwork.

I leaned in until our foreheads met. I could hear his breath catch, but he didn't move away. I sighed, feeling contentment flood my body. This was the peace I had longed for. Neither of us moved, content to just feel the connection. Finally, I kissed him, knowing it was strange and wrong but not caring.

His reaction was slow, sweet, and I thought it was strange. He didn't even know who I was, yet he was accepting me so easily. The irony that I had considered killing him, considered ripping his life apart, hit me straight to the gut. He was too perfect for this world, let alone me.

We didn't break apart, instead staying as close as possible, just breathing against each other. His hands were holding my neck, holding on with pure emotion. "Please tell me your name," he pleaded.

I sighed, knowing I may regret this later. "Vanitas."

"Vanitas," he repeated, and the word sounded so much lighter on his tongue. He smiled, as if knowing my name was a precious gift. Leaning in so that he was practically in my lap, he kissed me. I lapped at his lusciousness, feeling an aching hungry stirring inside me. I wanted—I needed him—in a way I hadn't realized.

My arm crept along his back, lifting the material, stroking against smooth skin. He moaned against my tongue, and overcome by desire I flipped us over so that I hovered above him. He lay there, face flush and begging. He wanted this, too?

His brow furrowed when I didn't move. "Is something wrong?"

His hand found my hand, tried to entwine our fingers, but I jumped away. I formed a portal of Darkness taking a step toward it. This was too much for me to handle. He was pure, accepting. A part of me, buried, just scratching beneath the surface, still wanted to harm him. I wanted to see all of his expressions, ones of pain, of pleasure, of despair. I wanted to see his insides, to feel the warmth of his blood on my hands. But I also wanted to press him against him until there was no way of knowing where he ended and I began. I didn't know what to do—what to think—my thoughts spiraling out of control.

"Wait!" I glanced over my shoulder, watching as he sat up. "Will I see you again?"

My lungs constricted so that the sound came out twisted and bent. "Yes." Without another word, I dissolved into the Darkness.


	4. Longing (Ventus)

It wasn't noise or movement that stirred me awake but a sudden feeling of completion. The hole in my chest didn't seem to exist, and though I couldn't make anything out from the room's darkness, I was sure someone was here with me. I sat up, letting the bedspread slide to the floor.

"Is someone there?" I asked. My body remembered that a situation like this should put my nerves on edge. Instead, I felt compelled. I wanted to know this person. When they didn't answer, I continued, "I can feel you there. You don't need to be afraid of me."

"I am not afraid," came a harsh voice.

My eyes were steadily adjusting to the dark. I could now see the outline of his back. "Then why are you hiding?" I asked gently.

He spun. Disappointment filled me when I noticed the black helmet. I wanted to see his face, to read eyes that may tell me what he refused to say.

"I had decided not to hurt you as I intended. But now, I'm reconsidering my choice."

My eyes widened as I realized the delicateness of the situation. Perhaps I was being naïve. Yet I still couldn't feel maliciousness. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to bleed," he scoffed. "I want you to suffer as much as I do."

I wanted to ask what he meant, I wanted to know what relation we had to each other, I wanted to ask how I could help him. But his fingers found my neck and squeezed so that I couldn't speak. Yet there was an uncertainty in the grasp. Even without seeing his eyes, I knew he spoke the truth. This was a hurting man. I wished that I could ease that pain somehow. Instead of feeling fear as I'm sure I should have, I caressed where his check would be beneath the helmet and cooed like I had to the bird. That was the only comfort I could think of.

He jolted back as if my fingers were made of flame, fist clenching. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to do. I recalled what Terra had said about frightened animals. It was best to not push them.

We stared at each other in silence, until I finally asked, "Can you at least tell me your name?" Silence. I settled on the edge of the bed. "I'm Ventus. Please, call me Ven." Silence. "I'm staying here with Terra, Aqua, and Master Eraqus. We're training to become keyblade masters. Or, they are—I still need more training before I'll be ready." He chuckled slightly at this which caused my checks to heat. "What, you don't think I can?"

"No. I know you can. You just aren't applying yourself." That was strange. It sounded like he actually knew about my training. Had he been stalking me? Considering he snuck in here, it wasn't a stretch. But, for some reason that didn't bother me.

"Fine! I'll work harder. Just you wait." He moved, sitting beside me. "Huh?" I blinked in surprise, and then, suddenly, his head was resting on the edge of my shoulder. A spark lit in my chest, and I brought a hand up to pet him. Again, I was disappointed by the helmet he wore, which now prevented me from feeling through his hair. He felt so close to me, yet that helmet felt like an impenetrable wall dividing us.

"It's weird, I feel at ease with you here. That must sound weird, doesn't it? I mean you snuck in here in the middle of the night, and I don't even know your name. But for some reason this is the most at ease I remember being."

He remained silent, and I just kept stroking at his helmet. But then my fingers met spikey hair instead, and I let out a yelp of surprise. Turning my head, I studied his face. My eyes had mostly adjusted now, so while I couldn't make out the color of his eyes I could see the bottomless depths. "Uh, is this alright?"

Instead of answering he cupped my cheek expectantly. "Uh." Neither of us moved, so I took in his features. Though his muscles were relaxed now, I suspected they were often wound tight, leaving subtle stretch marks. His mouth was set in a straight line, but his eyes studied me in reverence.

My breath caught when his forehead met mine, catching me by surprise. Neither of us moved, simply reveling in this close proximity. I could feel my nerves singing from an ache for contact. Then, he was kissing me. It felt strange, but it was oddly satisfying, and soon I was moving against him. Instead of breaking apart we stayed impossibly close. I could feel his breath against my lips, and I brought my hands to his neck.

"Please tell me your name," I pleaded.

He sighed, but finally he said, "Vanitas."

"Vanitas," I repeated. It made my tongue tingle pleasantly, and a smile formed on my lips. I was overcome with longing to kiss him, and practically straddled him as I did so. His tongue lapping at mine was making my head swim. An arm crept under my shirt and began to stroke up and down my back. The skin he touched burned, and I moaned in response.

In a ragged motion, he flipped us over so that I lay on my back with him above me. The space between us sizzled with desire. But he didn't move. "Is something wrong?" I asked, furrowing my brow. I reached for his hand, but he shot away, forming a swirling black portal.

When he stepped toward it, I knew he was going to leave. "Wait!" I exclaimed. Fear of never seeing him again had my chest in knots. "Will I see you again?"

His voice was strained. "Yes." Then his body stepped into the mass of blackness, dissolving into it.

I took deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. My body felt like when you first get into a shower before it heats up all the way, hypersensitive and unpleasant. The space of my back he touched felt eerily cold, and my mouth felt dry. Why had he left? No matter how long I thought on it, no answer came.

I lay back, clinging to the bedsheet in frustration. I wanted to see him again. Now.


End file.
